Diablo 2: Fallen
by Amethyst Haze
Summary: In progress! Side story of Amethyst Haze's Diablo series. (Longing to be with you, Visions of you)
1. Introduction: Into the Game

Diablo 2: Fallen - Introduction  
By Amethyst Haze

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo II, its concepts, its designs or anything else related to it. Those are the property of Blizzard Entertainment, this story is simply a non-profit tribute and parody.

Amethyst Haze's comments: This is the side story of the D2 series I'm working on. For the first two stories prior to this, it is "Longing to be with you" and "Visions of you." Be warned, those two stories are rated R unlike this one rated PG-13.

Fallen Angel Requiem - as written and sung by Bayard  
  
Two angels of light protected all good and innocent life cherished  
yet all sweel loving emotions within one simply perished.  
Perspective caused by insanity which had been boredom-borne.  
The other angel later wept for her, emotions so forlorn.  
  
Tyreal was the other; driven to never fail.  
The fallen one an advisor; sweet, wise and frail.  
Gifted with accurate visions that danced in her head  
she was haunted by one that ended with her dead.

To distract her from such horrid visions not suited for a girl,  
Tyreal took her for a leisurely tour of the mortal world.  
She saw how poor the people were and how they clung to life  
regardless of the next day and so on being forever filled with strife.

Touched by one male mortal's soft and hopeful smile,  
She never considered their love would last only for awhile.  
Her constant visits filled with gifts of happiness to him did fade  
once greed caused other humans to murder, pillage and raid.  
  
Killing the band of humans responsible for her heart's pain,  
the female angel was threatened to never visit mortals again.  
"I do not need this anymore!" she said to the Tyreal in a yell,  
So the angel turned from a world of light to face a human hell.  
  
In the village of Grehnt is where she chose to live,  
she tried to be good, taking less that what she'd give.  
The humans were still filled with such an insatiable greed;  
they took everything they wanted and never just what they need.  
  
Angered by humans and the selfish foul deed  
she spoke out to help them but was instead left to bleed.  
She might not have turned evil if a tear had been shed,  
but no one wept for her, so she wished them all dead.  
  
Leaving a trail of blood as she left with hurt pride,  
she allowed anger and rage to build up deep inside.  
"You owe me so much for this," was her last threat,  
"And with your lives, you men I catch shall pay the very debt."  
  
Tyreal came to her to restore her angelic side.  
she refused to give in because of her sorely dented pride.  
"I'd rather die than try to help humans once more!"  
Tyreal then changed her so she was human to the core.  
  
She was found by two demonic sisters and given a better chance,  
Being dubbed the third sister, she then returned with complaisance.  
Though a physical death strike from her was never blown,  
insanity made captors want death from a weapon of their own.  
  
The visions turned blurry but coninued to play on,  
with them are hateful thoughts that will never be gone.  
Any man that catches her fancy are drawn into her lair,  
and are subjected to her morbid company without a single care.  
  
The fallen angel is now the true dark temptress;  
Half human, half-demon and brimming with demetedness.  
Though her sweet voice may be seductive and full of desire,  
With enough words spoken, men suffer a mind's hellfire.  
  
Upon a dark day shall destiny settle the score,  
and when her demonic life ends; she'll have the visions no more.  
Wits so addled, she refuses the light from which she came,  
Amused with her disturbing thoughts; Diemma is her name.

Introduction: "In the Game" 

The crackling flame tongues of the campfire danced that day---not a jubilant dance of celebration--in fear. A damp and foreboding sensation crawled up his spine--vertebrae by vertebrae--lightly pinching into the skin like a taloned spider. Valerius Mendalc's leather gauntleted-grip pulsed around the worn hilt of his broadsword; the dampness of his palm was momentarily relieved but his nerves were not. Despite having five of his men on watch, he could not relax himself enough to catch a much needed a wink of sleep until his body collapsed from exhaustion. Something was calling to him, echoing in the recesses of his nightmares to leave him a souvenir of tainted anxiousness in his waking moments.

_My superiors would laugh at me_, he thought grimly, feeling his eyelids weigh down with every delayed blink. His superiors, the Hand of Zakarum's council, indeed would laugh at him. "A seasoned warrior like yourself scared of the dark," he could imagine them jesting lightly with him before offering him words of comfort and a promise of his name in their daily prayers.

Valerius' lips twisted into a sardonic smirk. _Like I care_, he thought bitterly, absently tracing the wrappings of leather on the hilt with a calloused finger. All that mattered was for evil to be gone, by any means necessary. Evil.... that was why he was sleeping on the ground instead of a warm and firm pallet like he and the rest of his company was a fortnight ago.

The company's target this time was Grehnt, a small village on the outskirts of the Kurast desert, sitting divided on the Scosglen and Kehjistan regional borders; in other words, Valerius' home.

_Home_.... it echoed hollowly in his head as yet again a sneer twisted its way onto his face. He had not set foot on his home since ten years ago and even now he wish he didn't have to. Grehnt was his well of chaos and confusion, a place he called home though it never felt like home. When he had run off to join the Zarakum at the tender age of fifteen, it was seen as his only means of escape despite the long years he spent doing chores for the House of Zakarum and training alone at spare moments.

His eyes lingered over to a soldier in the distance... Zacharius, young, but ambitious and too full of dreams to be part of that Zarakum. Valerius felt a touch of pity towards the young man. Barely in his twenties, he swore fealty to the church upon his twentieth birthday when he was despairing over never having a purpose in life... His purpose appeared two days later in the form of a loving woman.

Ah, the fairer sex. Valerius' thoughts enviously remembered the way Zacharius' face lit up with light and joy when he spoke of his beloved waiting for him. Such emotions he never felt nor probably would never feel. But did it really matter? Humans were mortal thus flawed and by nature, humans are fickle. It would only be a matter of time before young Zacharius would find a new woman to dive into as he tosses his previous lass aside. From his logic, Valerius knew he had made the right choice; the battle against evil is more fulfilling and more exciting. Yet.... why was he repeating it like a mantra if he is so convinced?

The shiver of chainmail settling on the ground not to far from him rustled him out of his thoughts and loosely grabbed his attention. Adjacent to him though still in front of the fire to bask in its warmth, his second-in-command, Lutheric, struggling to remove his hauberk until his young squire finally stepped in to assist him. Lutheric lay back on the soft earth, shed his chain gloves and laced his hands behind his head to stare up at the smoke of the fire that trailed up into the velvet heavens stretched and bejeweled across horizons.

With a nonchalant wave of his hand to his squire, Lutheric's steely eyes glittered in the night as he glanced at Valerius with his always assessing eyes. "We leave at first light." Though he meant it questioningly, all his inquiries sounded like orders.

Valerius returned with a curt nod as he rolled over onto a shoulder, staring deeper into the hypnotic depths of the fire. "As always."

The light played with his eyes, flaring brightly before the irises that stared back intently. It captivated him, fascinated him... so much more possible than an actual fire was capable of doing. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours and Valerius' lids turned heavy while his eyes dewed and revealed its vision to be clouded by smoky wisps.

_Valerius, you paragon.... what are you waiting for? Or who? _A voice slithered into his head, raspy and distorted away from gender clarity.

The paladin's hazel eyes' snapped open wide, darting side to side to survey the area. The fire was burning but not with the same intensity that it held when he had succumbed to its trance. The soldiers in the company lay asleep, some dozing, and a few he could see in the distance, still standing watch.

They were still a good half day's away from Ghrent and already he was on edge... He paused for a moment, silently mocking himself for letting his imagination getting away with him.

_You have a very vivid imagination then, Paragon..._ the voice called again mockingly, emphasizing the word "paragon." Though, this time the voice was much clearer and... much more feminine. _ Yes, a very feminine imagination too then._ It trailed off into a chuckle, soft though still threatening.

He jerked his head up, his movement not stirring the dozing soldiers from their slumber. _What's going on?_ he thought to himself, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Thoughts entered his head like rapidfire, one after the other, each one trailing on to the next or separate. _Is this a dream? Am I dead? Is it a demon? ...I should wake the men._

_No, you are not dreaming; I assure you, this is very real._ The voice slyly responded. _Demon.... that's debatable. As for your waking your men..._

A soft _shff_ of dirt and _rssssk_ of chainmail hissed back towards his attentive ears. His gaze shuttered in response to the sight of his men sinking to their knees or to their backs in a soft slumber.

Valerius' jaw tensed as the voice whispered. _ And, as for dead, Paragon.... Not yet...._

The seasoned paladin slid onto his knees, climbing to his full height as he drew his broadsword from his sheath and retrieved his trusty tower shield propped up on a nearby broken log. "Quit calling me "paragon," " he bit out in a loud voice to the still of the night.

_It suits you.... I've heard of you.... The paragon of Zakarum; holy not only in thy blade's triumphs of evil, but pure of mind as well. _A throaty laugh rippled through his mind, seeming to sift through the trees of the proud forests nearby. _Bullshit, I do say._

"Whatever you say matters not, demon," he spat back. "For one born of true evil, you claim falsely to know much about what is holy and its ways."

The trees swayed softly in the midnight rhythm. _Very good,_ the female whispered. _But.... I was not born evil... A pity, in truth._

"Impossible," he replied tersely.

The voice hesitated before softly replying in a bitter tone, _Not impossible, just... improbable, and I happen to be the unlikely result._

"And what," he found himself unable to hide his curiosity. "You wish to return to the light?"

"Do not make me ill by that thought!" a voice haughtily retorted within hearing range.

Startled, Valerius pivoted sharply to lay eyes on his enemy: a woman, a frail woman.... a demoness with haunting eyes that glimmered of intelligence in the dim flickering firelight. His body shifted into a combat-ready stance, shield raised and sword waiting to strike out like a self-righteous cobra. His narrowed eyes sweeping over the woman in an assessing manner. Though power radiated from her with ease, he didn't feel threatened enough for his adrenaline level to burst into an all time high.

Uneven lengths of hair ranging from shoulder length to past the her dainty shoulder blades framed her face loosely as it swayed to the gentle hum of the evening breeze. "Good evening, Valerius," she said primly, the accents in her voice holding a very worldly quality to them.

Guarded, Valerius arched a thick eyebrow in response. "Sir Mendalc, rather," he corrected.

"All the same, Paragon," she emphasized an endearing tone upon "paragon" that it actually struck an odd note to Valerius. He assessed her again; she looked almost.... normal. He could feel the power still that she possessed, but his eyes deceived him to that power. She seemed a frail and fragile woman; Her dark brown eyes twinkling with merry mischief despite the tight frown on her lips. She did not look at all like a demon, she was, in truth, attractive.... for a demon. She had long black hair shadowing her frame--not defying gravity or riddled with snakes waiting to snap at him like in tales many conjured up of demonesses... nor like the ones he was used to.

"Paragon," she called to him in a chiding voice with sarcastic undertones. "If you stare any longer, I might feel the maidenly blush arise."

"Demon," he mimicked her tone. "I seriously doubt you are a maiden." He verbally jabbed back, hitting the spot on her as he tightened his grip on his sword.

The corner of her lips tugged into a smile. "Are you going to call me 'Demon' from now on then?" She softly chuckled, the husky sound seducing Valerius' ears for a brief moment before he lunged forward for his attack.

His torso twisted as he threw all his strength into a single slash at the demoness. His hit, however, never hit home. The demoness was no where in sight, and not a spot of blood stained his blade.

He whirled around in a full circle, his brain on full alert, his eyes scanning the area, darting to each man asleep in the camp to ensure that they were safe. And they were.

_I am not so low to bring them into this game of ours, O Paragon,_ a voice hissed, reaching to his mind in fury. _I will be watching._

"Game...?" he growled challengingly. "Demon, show yourself. Or are you so weak to be frightened of a mere mortal?"

Another laugh echoed internally and Valerius felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he felt the soft feminine breath brush by. _You should know better than to provoke a demon. _ The voice gradually faded until it became but a whisper. _ And don't call me Demon, Valerius... it's Diemma._

His breath caught in his throat. Impossible, the youngest of the demon sisters trio still remained?

_Not impossible.... just improbable..._

__


	2. Chapter 1: In which the Paragon investig...

Diablo 2: Fallen - Chapter 1  
By Amethyst Haze

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo II, its concepts, its designs or anything else related to it. Those are the property of Blizzard Entertainment, this story is simply a non-profit tribute and parody.

Amethyst Haze's comments: This is the side story of the D2 series I'm working on. You might want to read the first two stories so you know at least the background of the three sisters. (D2: Longing To Be With You and D2: Visions of You) Also, you've seen that this story has an R-rating on it, so, if scenes of a suggestive nature and violence bother you, please read a different story. Thank you and good day. Comments and criticism appreciated in either the reviews or by e-mail. Thanks.

Chapter 1: "In which the Paragon investigates"

Valerius remained in a brooding state of mind for the rest of the long journey to Ghrent. Thoughts churned in his head repetitively like the wheels of the supply wagon he and the men of his company were walking along side. Logic was clashing with improbability threatened his sanity as his mind kept replaying the event that occurred one night ago, and the name still played on his head. Diemma. He sighed deeply, quieting the sound of his breath as to not attract his men to his discomfort else they discover what happened that night. It would not bide well if they learned he encountered a demon; they'd suspect the darkness in his soul was surfacing.

No one but him was aware of the demoness' presence and it loomed around him like a phantom, threatening to suffocate reality from him. His mind was firmly fixed upon the chance encounter.

_No,_ he corrected himself. _Not chance encounter. She knew who I was, she was waiting for me._ He hesitated, unsure of what to think about that, unsure of what to make of the demoness. She was Diemma.... the legendary fallen angel, Tyreal's sister, the youngest of the Demon Sister trio, also known as the Dark Temptress.

He frowned. _Dark Temptress? Who the hell thought of that one? _he mused briefly before deciding some stupid bard probably nicknamed the two younger sisters to add to the catchiness to their tunes. The Countess was the "Countess" for ages, she who drank the blood of virgins and all the rest ingrained into her bloody legend. The enchantress and the dark temptress however... it had to be a bard just pulling his creative muscle there and failing miserably to rhyme if they were called anything but.

The splintery wood of the wheels creaked and groaned with every turn until they finally reached the old crumbling stone pillars that marked the dusty entrance of Ghrent. His lips twisted into a grimace as he heard the voice return: _Found you again, Paragon._

For days it had been like that. He'd be lost in his thoughts and then a visiting voice would whisper to him: "Found you." It was a substitute greeting. Though he had grown used to hearing Diemma's voice, he still didn't welcome it. It was like a mosquito that whizzed by your head, persistently buzzing after you. You either had to wave the bug away, ignore it or kill it. And that made him wonder whether he had to kill Diemma to stop her from bothering him. The whole purpose of the

_Found me? _he replied inwardly with a wry smile. _I wasn't even hiding._

_And you shouldn't. I can find you wherever you go._

Valerius quickly barked an order to a younger paladin in training who then scurried off in search of the nearest inn. _How quaint,_ he responded icily. _I never though I'd have my own demon stalker. I truly am blessed this day._

Diemma laughed, her voice full of mirth in his head and sounded like the angelic twinkling of bells despite the blackness of her demon soul.

_You mentioned this being a game, _he started, hesitating slightly. _Are there any set rules?_

Silence crept in his mind for a full hour as he and his men followed the young paladin in training, Evrett, to the nearby inn, "The Dancing Boar." Zacharius, removing his helmet as they walked along the path, wagon in tow, couldn't help but note Valerius' sudden brooding state and moments that he paused in his stride

"I'm fine," Valerius responded curtly to the new paladin. He was not though; Diemma still had not answered him and that unnerved him. Demons were a capricious and tricky lot, particularly one like Diemma that displayed obvious signs of intelligence in tactics and approach.... Who knew how cunning she might truly prove to be?

_Why thank you, Paragon, _Diemma's voice thrummed to life in his mind. _I do believe that's the first compliment you've given me._

_It was an assessment, not a compliment,_ Valerius thought wryly. He knew he was going to have to guard his thoughts more carefully.

Inside The Dancing Boar smelled much like the carcass of a boar left to rot for weeks without end. Valerius and his men flinched at the assault upon their nostrils while Evrett turned a rather sickly shade of green.

Zacharius muttered to himself, covering his nose and mouth with a leather-torn gauntlet. "I've come across chamber pots more appealing than this."

Valerius paused. It was not possible for something to reek so terribly. He inhaled again and instantly regretted it, as did Diemma.

_Gods!_ she shrieked inside his head. _Stop smelling it, what is wrong with you??! Smell it once then run away!_

The corner of his lips tugged into a smirk. So... it seemed she experienced what he did just by thinking about it. With a reckless spark inside, he inhaled deeply, walking towards the buxom barwench nearby that polished the wood with a tattered and equally filthy rag.

Diemma's voice continued swearing in several ancient languages, half of which he'd never heard and wondered if it was possibly gibberish on her part from the overwhelming stench. _Damn you, Valerius, get out of there!! That stench isn't normal!_

He ignored Diemma's voice as he spoke to the barwench, his eyes avoiding the sight of her nearly spilling out of her blouse. "How much is it for a night?" he asked, trying not to let his voice crack from the stench. He heard retreating footfalls and glanced back to find his men shiftily leaving the bar to the safety of the fresh air outside. _Traitors, _he thought.

Leaning closer to him, the barwench's eyes glittered greedily as she drank in the virile sight of Valerius. The moment she opened her mouth, Valerius heard Diemma shriek again as the barwench's breath hit his nostrils full on. "100 gold per night per person.... 500 if your friends want in as well," she purred, lowering her lashes in an attempt to entice.

Diemma's voice boomed to him with absolute clarity and he felt his blood thin. _That place is ridden with the plague, you idiot! Get out of there!!_

Holding his breath, Valerius nodded politely and quickly left as he could.Once outside, he questioned Evrett's motives for suggesting The Dancing Boar.

Evrett feebly defended himself beneath the gazes of Lutheric and Valerius. "It was the closest place. I didn't know."

Zacharius, closest in age to Evrett, stood up for him as Lutheric's face reddened with anger. "It was a mistake. He had no idea what place that was."

Evrett raised his eyebrow, confused.

Lutheric scowled, "Even a blind man can tell the difference between an inn and a whorehouse."

The young paladin-trainee shuffled his feet nervously. "I apologize. I'll be more attentive next time." In the back of Evrett's mind, he wondered if Lutheric was one of those paladins who also snuffed out their desirous needs like many eunuch-turned-paladin.

"Next time?" Lutheric boomed, scratching the shadow beard upon his chin in aggravation. He shook his head, muttering under his breath as he turned, jammed his fingers through his hair and headed down the road in search of an inn.

Zacharius ruffled the scruffy auburn mop of hair atop young Evrett's head. "Don't worry about him, Ev. He'll just walk it off. 'Sides, I lived here before, didn't know that was a whore house either."

_Who is he? _Diemma asked softly.

_Who, Lutheric?_

_Yes... I don't trust him. I don't think you should neither._

Valerius mentally laughed scornfully at Diemma. _Oh yes... well, if a demon says my man's not to be trusted, well, then, I have to trust the demon's word, don't I?_

_Evil recognizes its own kind._

Valerius decided not to answer her, but instead let her believe he understood what she was saying. Lutheric was his second in command, he knew more about dangers and loyalty than anyone else in his small company. Lutheric had been by his side for years, training side-by-side, upholding the virtues that the Zakarum believed in. If there had been a change in Lutheric's attitude in the slightest, Valerius would be the first to notice it. Looking at it logically, Lutheric would have bene the brother Valerius would have been honored to have. Many times they had saved each others own necks... but it wasn't out of duty. Granted, Valerius understood that duty would force Lutheric to never abandon a mission, even for a moment, to save the captain, but he did on several occasions and the missions continued smoothly. Lutheric had many times risked putting his life as a paladin into mayhem by going against the code of the paladins set by the Zakarum.

The Paladins of Zakarum sole purpose was to defeat evil in order to protect its people like a shepherd to its own flock; however, these shepherds were expendable. If a paladin died in battle he died with honour and would be replaced without any of the high council of Zakarum flinching.

_Stay away from him at all costs._

A warning bell went off in Valerius' head as his stride broke slightly.

_In fact... stay away from all your men._

His eyes instantly narrowed, detecting the malice discreetly laced in her voice. He instantly recognized her plan; she intended to have the full advantage to kill him with minimal difficulty. His sword hand tensed as he made a mental note to not let his guard down nor let him seem the slightest bit vulnerable. _How dumb do you think I am?_

Lutheric pointed at a nearby inn, clearly looking like it was not a whorehouse. It was modest, slightly derelict, but seemed more dependable and safer than the whore house previously mentioned. Nodding affirmatively, the paladins followed Lutheric into the inn where a plump and portly looking old woman stood behind a counter as she stared into the scroll within her hands.

_You're mortal,_ Diemma finally replied as he handed Lutheric a small pile of gold he retrieved from his satchel. _So, that should answer your question._

_Mortals are not dumb,_ he sourly replied for better lack of words.

He could hear her smirk. Only_ you would think so because you haven't been anything but._

Valerius eyes stayed on Lutheric as he and the old innkeeper's wife bantered back and forth about the price for several rooms before the burly soldier's conscience gave out to give the charitable amount of gold the woman asked in exchange for the rooms and hearty meals. Or perhaps it was Lutheric's rumbling tummy that gave in; it was no match against the old woman's listing of foods which ranged from a delectably seasoned stuffed pheasant with a heaping helping of creamy buttered potatoes and Lut Gholein wine to match.

_And you, a demon, are qualified to give an unbiased verdict? _He challenged her, feeling a strange warmth spread through his soul as she softly breathed her response to his mind: _Yes._

The warmth that suddenly radiated through his being startled him. His gaze shuttered as he mutely followed the innkeeper to their new and temporary quarters. A thought occurred him and he spoke out loud in his haste, "Why me?"

The innkeeper stopped at the doorjamb and turned to him with a puzzled look on his face. "Because you paid." The old man's eyes swept over Valerius' face as his expression pulled into one of a searching nature. "Do I know you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Everyone knows the paladins of the Hand of Zakarum," Valerius replied curtly.

"Ah, yes." Eyebrows furrowing, but his words accepting Valerius response, the innkeeper moved his old bones around Valerius and his soldiers as he waddled back to the receiving room.

It was that evening that Valerius wandered around the town of Ghrent. Alone. His men, though asking to escort him, were promptly refused.

Lutheric gave a non-committal shrug, bit into the leg of a perfectly-spiced pheasant and, with a mouth load of food, said, "He'll be fine, he's a big boy."

Valerius wandered up and down the cobblestone paths he once knew to be a mixture of soil and red clay. Ghrent had changed so much from what he last remembered it as. The townsquare was the same has he remembered though. The two stone pillars carved by some nameless mason of the region erected them to symbolize the friendship between Ghrent and the neighbouring village of Shcaez, a small but bountiful fishing and farming community that Ghrent heavily relied upon.

He remembered the walks, holding a strong hand as a child, looking up at his mother. All bits of memories flickered before his eyes like wildfire. His heart sank as he thought about the day he heard the news of the fate of Ghrent.

It was on one overcast night. He was stuck on the lowly duty of polishing and reinforcing the shields of paladins. Him, a lowly squire. His mentor quietly took him aside despite his please to finish his work instead of face the punishment that lay before him if he didn't. He went into a speech, reasoning his mentor fine points in his favour. His mentor was slightly impressed with the young man's finely tuned skills of reasoning, but it wasn't enough to deter him from the task he sought to fulfill.

"Boy," Erachis said, still calling him 'boy' despite his obvious growth past adolescence. He ran his hand to rub his wiry and grizzly brown beard. "Your family is dead."

_Imagine,_ he thought bitterly. _Being only eight summers old and learning you've been left behind._

_Imagine being immortal and knowing everyone leaves you behind,_ a voice softly replied.

He lowered his gaze away from the two pillars of carved stone and turned his head, his mind searching for her voice. Diemma.

_Found you. And what, O paragon, are you doing now? _she asked in her sultry tone of voice.

He ignored her, continuing his walk through the ever-expanded town. As his eyes swept over the new establishments and homes, he couldn't help but feel his pride swell to a new point for his home. It wasn't until several minutes later his walking ceased and he examined his surroundings more closely. The stone fountain in the crude shape of a lion sat in his view with the town expanding more so behind it.

Diemma's soft mocking laugh echoed in his head. _Still feeling proud of your town?_

In the horizon, over the clay paths and rickety rooftops of buildings, a decimated ruin of decaying stone walls, wooden walls.

"Schaez..." he said softly, remembering the small village with perfect clarity. He could still smell the salty but invigorating tang of a fish's scent in the air and hear the rippling of the river as it lazily fought against the man made fishing traps.

He blinked and it all vanished, leaving behind the dreary ruin behind him.

_Do you know how many survivors suffered after Ghrent attacked them?_ Diemma asked him.

He didn't answer.

_None. There were no survivors. Your people killed them all._

He paused, taking a deep breath and sitting down beside the crude lion. His eyes turned up to the deep navy heavens and to the constellations as if looking for a shooting star to wish a death-filled history away.

_Were you there for it?_

Diemma paused. _I was._

_Will you tell me it?_

"Do you really want to listen to a demoness?"

Valerius' head snapped in the direction the voice came from. Standing at the left of the lion, patting its crude head with a expressionless face, stood Diemma, her unshod feet dipped in the fountain's pool of water.

"I'm asking it, aren't I?" he answered with a question with elicited a smirk from the demoness.

"You have a point." Effortlessly, she levitated into the air until she was level with the lion's back, arched into a roar to the heavens. Her hand stretched out, she placed it on its weathered mane and fluidly pulled herself to sit on its back. Staring down at Valerius, she smiled at the paladin.

That smile sent a shiver through his spine. He couldn't identify it and, immediately, a feeling of dread washed over him. He calmly reminded himself he'd listen, but be on his guard. _I'll kill her if neccessary, _he thought.

Diemma took a deep breath, her head tilted up to stare at the sky, her lips pulled into a tight frown. "All those deaths were over a healer."

He nodded, aware of it. "Yes, I've heard of her. The White Lady they call her."

"Avellai," Diemma corrected. "It means White Lady in the tongue of the ancients."

Valerius' sucked in his breath quickly as a feeling of nausea washed over him. He glanced at Diemma, hoping he didn't give himself away with a facial expression..

Diemma, oblivious to his sudden change, continued on. "She wanted to leave Ghrent. Too many impure souls lived here that would eventually taint hers. Schaez offered her sanctuary in their simple life."

Diemma rubbed her temples, her memory stirring towards the five-year old meaningless violence that fell upon the region. "The inhabitants of Ghrent were not pleased. For days, people poured into the White Lady's small home, ostracizing her and criticizing her abilities as a healer." Diemma shook her head, gesturing her hands side to side as she gave examples. "Ignorant words such as, "If it taints your soul, you're a poor healer then." Or worse, "People have impure souls then because you're not doing your job. You should stay here." Avellai said nothing, but her actions of visiting Schaez more often spoke louder."

Valerius swallowed roughly, his throat suddenly feeling parched.

"As days went by," Diemma continued, slowly nodding her head as if to silently confirm her words. "The words became more poisonous. They accused her of wanting to use Schaez as a start to unsuspectingly build up her power over people then destroy Ghrent, cleanse it of its "impure souls." The White Lady still said nothing. Things escalated. Hatred towards Schaez grew and grew. When the White Lady moved to Schaez, several of the Schaez villagers helped her with her modest belongings." Her eyes turned to stare at Valerius directly.

"They were ambushed," she uttered thinly. "Ghrent attacked them, demanding Avellai return to Ghrent."

"The Schaez villagers tried to help her, but were wounded for it. The White Lady agreed to return, but revived the fallen villagers before doing so."

She shook her head, an errant lock falling across her cheek that Valerius was almost compelled to tuck behind her ear for her. "She was locked in a place especially made for her, no bigger than a peasant's earthy burial chamber and guarded by at least five Ghrentiers day and night. Schaez would often come to her, to save her. Battle would ensue. People on both sides were hurt or killed, yet she revived all of them."

"Ghrentiers grew angrier at Avellai's actions," she shook her head in a disapproving motherly way. "Why should she heal the Schaez villagers when it is them who persists in the stupidity of fighting them when they do what is the only right thing to do--keep Avellai where she's needed most. They needed her to remind them of what's good in the world.

Valerius stopped her. "Why do you care whether people die or not?"

Diemma raised her head and gave him a leveled glare. "I don't. But I do have respect for Avellai. It's a hard choice to make to stay on the grey."

The paladin regarded the demoness oddly but asked that she continue.

"They tried to make her promise never to heal Schaez villagers. She refused. Her powers of healing were never meant to be prejudiced and choose only one side. The Ghrentiers took this in a completely different way. They saw only the "us verses them" and she was helping them. In retrospect, would she heal evil as well?" She snorted. "I don't know if she would heal evil, but given what's written about her, she sounds like the kind of person to reason that people are not born evil or good, but rather they develop into one of the sides by outside factors beyond what their soul dictates."

"Venomous accusations flowed freely," Diemma continued, tucking the errant lock finally behind her ear. "Perhaps she was a demon disguised as a saviour, and all the people who she revived were her undead slaves, cunning enough to fit in with the mortals. Fires were set to Schaez in hopes of scaring the "undead slaves" away. The flames were put out and the Schaez verbally defended Avellai's goodness, that she is to be free and will heal all who come to her, not those who just enslave her." Diemma's lips curled in disgust. "I know you think I don't care what happens to mortals, but Avellai was different than the rest of you holier-than-thou healers. She's also female, I can empathize with that..." she trailed off, catching herself in her rambling.

"The next day, Avellai was raped and tortured," her eyes glittered darkly as she regarded the rapidly paling face of Valerius.

"Schaez rebelled. Men, women and children flew from their houses towards the townsquare where she was locked and displayed, wrapped in hard rope, bruised, dying and naked with blood on her thighs," she flexed her hand, the ridges of her knuckles being displayed.

"Most of the women of and children of Ghrent remained safely inside their homes while the men fought with the Schaez villagers, but not all of them. Within ten minutes, the Schaez population that rallied for her was nearly wiped out. It was then that she finally spoke."

"Please... end my life," Diemma quietly whispered with a sorrowful look on her face.

Valerius froze, a chill running through his blood. For a moment, he almost felt as if it was Diemma pleading to die and not her repeating Avellai's words.

"She admitted no longer being able to save anyone after being tainted with such violent displays," Diemma muttered, shaking her head as if to say "what a waste." "No one seemed worthy anymore. None of the villagers moved to kill her, they didn't feel right to harm what they believed so strongly in..... The Ghrentiers caught up and killed the villagers."

"The Ghrentiers who caught the White Lady were none too happy with the many deaths in their town by Schaez's rescue attempt. She was raped several times and beaten severely for it. In the end, Avellai bit off her own tongue and bled to death." Her eyes trailed down to his hands then to his faith with a sympathetic tilt of her head.

Valerius' eyes followed hers to his hands. He was surprised to find his fists were clenched into two tight balls. His knuckles were pure white and he didn't even realize his hands were closed to begins with. His mind thought about the fear and horror Avellai must have felt. Waves of nausea, rage and sadness rushed through him. "How do I know you're not lying?" he forced himself to ask, staring pointedly at the ground in front of him in anger.

Hopping off the lion and walking to him, Diemma knelt down to tilt her head and look him in the eyes. "You lived in this place. You should know whether they're capable of it or not."

With that, she turned, stepped into the fountain and vanished, leaving Valerius with a feeling of uncontrollable hatred.


	3. Chapter 2: Distrust is common in humans ...

Diablo 2: Fallen - Chapter 2  
By Amethyst Haze

Disclaimer: I do not own Diablo II, its concepts, its designs or anything else related to it. Those are the property of Blizzard Entertainment, this story is simply a non-profit tribute and parody.

**A message from Amethyst Haze**

I'm proud to announce the rating of "Fallen" will be lowered to PG-13. It has come to my attention by several readers that the most complaints is that it's hard to find (due to the R rating) and that not many people know about it. Well, that's true. I set it at an R level by standards because, well, in the tradition of the first two stories in this series, it is pretty rated R. Considering they were NC-17 which I edited to a more suitable R level, it's understandable why I would do that. I am a responsible adult, I'm not going to purposely trick kids into reading stories by saying "Hey, it's G or PG!" But, I am also not their mother. A simple "R" isn't going to stop them from looking into it, but by saying that, understand I am not promoting those ideas. Simply said, THIS story is acceptable to receive a lower than R rating because it will not be as risque as my previous stories. That being said, do not think I am saying this to expect a lower quality in my stories. In closing.... WOOHOO!

__

Chapter 2: "Distrust is common in humans and demons"

With the passing of each day, the Ghrenters were becoming more and more agitated. Though the Hand of Zakarum's paladins--revered as the most holiest of warriors second only to angels like Tyreal--reassured the safety of their persons, they feared it would do naught for the safety of their souls.

Each night, one more man turned up dead and left in the same fashion: lying on their back, the earth scorched into a neat and tight circle around their corpse with four cracking punctures into the earth to form an even square framing their body and the burnt earth. What remained of their body was also the same: their eyes were torn out, cloth cut from their own garments shoved into their mouths and a missing ear. With each morning that a body was discovered, more accusations flew. So far, the victims have been male only. Such a common trait among the victims only made the fanatical "pointers" of the city surface to point a finger at all women of the city.

"It must be a woman spurned! Only such vicious natural sinners would be able to do such a foul thing to good men!" the voice boomed in the village square.

Valerius refrained from rolling his eyes as Kirsh, the eldest son of the wealthiest merchant stepped forward and pointed at each and every woman, continuing his tirade, "If it was any of you foul women who did this, I will personally see you all punished. Perhaps just like The White Lady herself, you need to be reminded who you serve." He smirked, self-satisfied with his threat.

A strange hush fell over the crowd. Fearful women's eyes darted amongst each other, terrified they might unknowingly be friends with the killer thus somehow be punished along with them should they be found.

"Perhaps," the voice belonging to Kirsh's father, a frail man draped in fine clothing, "It is The White Lady coming back to punish us."

Kirsh snorted, flicking the his goatee and arching a thick bushy eyebrow. "As a ghost? No, this killer is very much flesh and blood.' He swept his hand towards the small make-shift hut erected solely to hide the torn up corpses in. "Avellai is not capable of evil herself... but her believers might be." His snake-like steely eyes slithered and relaxed upon a petite woman of pale skin and powerful moss green eyes returning his gaze with all its power. "What say you, Lanai?"

Lanai, a woman holding herself tall and seemingly burning with a bold spirit, stared Kirsh down. "I say that you are a poor example of a man; A mere lion cub who roars at all willingly but has no wisdom of a full grown lion." She turned to the audience, gesturing gently in a feminine way. "Good people, do you really believe the women of this city would kill any men we live with?" She shook her head and clucked her tongue. "We know everyone, we meet in the marketplace and chat. Killing any man would mean we deprive one of our friends of a husband, a son, a father, a brother..." Her angry gaze turned to Kirsh again. "Use your good sense before throwing such wild accusations," she lowered her eyelids slightly and flicked a look of contempt towards the man. "That is... if you have any good sense or even a sense at all to claim."

Valerius, from the shadows, quietly regarded Lanai, staring at her in fascination. Lanai was a woman he had only crossed paths with once, and it was very brief involving only the exchange of gold for a few small bunches of grapes--a small indulgence he was longing for. She had merely made a tight frown with her lips when Valerius offered her double the gold she asked for. From his hand, she had plucked only what money was required for the transactions and curtly told him he should save his charity for this in deep need of it.

From afar, Valerius couldn't deny the unconventional beauty Lanai was. It had nothing to do with her fair face, but rather the brilliance of her spirit and the fire in her eyes. She spoke passionately, her voice not a lilting one to seduce the crowd, but one of intensity to capture the crowd with raw reason.

More heated words spilled from Lanai's lips as she and Kirsh verbally sparred for another round. The women were huddled behind Lanai, away from their families. Kirsh's voice cut through the air like poison through blood. Even Valerius' blood chilled at the sound of it, finding Lanai's voice a sweet serenade of sanctuary against the cacophony that came from Kirsh.

A sudden admiration for Lanai formed in Valerius' thoughts and a voice appeared from nowhere beside that admiration.

_I wouldn't admire her, if I were you_

_Diemma, _he thought with a sigh.

_Found you, Paragon._

_Why do you believe I should avoid her?_ Though Valerius was still suspicious of receiving advice from a demoness, he was gradually becoming used to it. Some of Diemma's advice turned out to be sound once the chance to be proven was given, but a leopard cannot easily change its spots. She might easily be trying to let him lower his guard to enable her a killing strike.

_It is rumoured that Lanai inherited Avellai's magicks to heal upon the death of the White Lady.... maybe she inherited Her vengeance as well..._

_If so, I need to investigate this._

Pushing a stray lock of walnut-coloured hair away from his forehead, he quietly watched Lanai as she spun on her heel, gracefully tightening the side knot of her soft rose draping dress, her burning eyes meeting Valerius' very briefly before she stormed out of the village square, the women of the village quickly following her and glancing back apologetically to their male counterparts or their families.

_You can never keep your nose safely where it belongs, can you? _Diemma sighed, her voice weary.

_And you can never not keep your own mind from reading mine, can you?_

_Touché. _Diemma chuckled softly.

The day crawled by with the matching pace of a half-starved rat scampering weakly through the Kurast desert. All of Valerius' troop's eyes and ears were focused on Lanai ever since the spectacle in the square. As more investigation continued through the day, facts that remained were the following:

1. Lanai was a follower and was probably the only follower who fled or survived when the rest of them were slaughtered. It is possible she was one of the "sanctuary" to Avellai. The Sanctuary, being the few followers entrusted to listen to her words uncensored and advise her.  
2. Lanai has a vehement hatred against the upper class Ghrenters who had forsaken Avellai.  
3. Lanai is the youngest daughter of a failed merchant who committed suicide when she was but six summers.  
4. She is often harassed by the upper class of the Ghrent.  
5. She is beautiful when she is angry.

Hastily, Valerius struck out the fifth item in his mental list as he watched Lanai turn her chin up indignantly with the posture of one of high born privileges. He had been shadowing her for hours as the rest of his men scoured the city to find more leads. Within the hours he had been following her, she had managed to reduce brash young men to into meek and feet-shuffling cowards. She was as strong as any woman he had seen. One rash boy threw a stone at her which she snatched out of the air and tossed it back with twice the effort. The boy fell over, whimpering and crying while rubbing his shoulder.

Valerius could not help but stifle a chuckle at her antic which then caught her attention. Lanai's moss-coloured eyes turned to Valerius questioningly before she arched a delicate eyebrow in a challenging nature. Though Valerius leaned casually against a crofter's hut without any armour or weapons, from the reaction of Lanai's posture, he could see she was threatened still by him.

Walking towards the small and powerful woman, he gallantly offered her a small bow and held out his hand in greeting. "My lady."

She glanced down at his hand impassively then back to into his eyes. "Sir," she replied frostily.

"Might you be Lanai?" he started gently.

"You are one of the Hand of Zakarum," she returned with a statement.

"I am."

When the voice of the demoness hit him, he could've groaned out loud._ Found you._

_Not now, _he snapped in his mind.

_You are not one to order me around,_ the voice hissed back.

"Do you have business with me, or have you come to oppress more people under the false guise of justice?" she asked saucily.

He raised his arms in a display of a lack of weapons. "I come to talk."

"Are you already influenced by Kirsh?"

"I am influenced by no one."

"And the sun rises in the west," she countered flippantly.

The exchange of wit went on for minutes until finally Valerius sneakily managed to extract an invitation out of her.

"I am tired," Lanai spoke softly, the stiffness in her shoulders relaxing. "If you would like to continue this.... discussion, you may accompany me to my home."

Not being one to let a lead pass by, he nodded and she gestured which direction her home lay before walking down the path as the sun began its slow descent.

As he followed her to the hut, his eyes unwillingly lowered to her shapely and very lovely bottom

_I dare you to grab her ass, Paragon, _Diemma's voice suddenly inappropriately crowed in his mind.

_Quiet, Demoness!!_ he hissed back, trying not to let his emotionless mask break.

A soft chuckle answered back, rolling through his mind like a soft wave. _Are you not a man?_

_I am. A real one, thus I treat women with the respect they deserve, _he replied, biting back an oath.

_... Very smooth answer, Paragon._

__

Small, cozy and dirty best summed up the conditions of Lanai's home. It was a small dilapidated hut in the outskirts but out of the border of the burnt ruins. The air around her home was different though. A sweet perfume danced in the air, playing sensuously with Valerius' pulse as he sat down on a small and sturdy upside-down basket.

He found himself sniffing the air noticeably enough to invoke an explanation from Lanai. "There's a hill of lavender not too far from here," she nodded her head out of the window, opposite of the direction of the ruins. "When the wind changes direction the perfume can be carried here."

Valerius smiled pleasantly, the kind of smile that would normally disarm a woman.... but not Lanai. Her face remained stony.

_I don't like her, _Diemma announced.

Valerius ignored Diemma, his gaze not once wavering from the young lady in front of him. "Were you a follower of Avellai?"

"Yes," she bit out thinly, "but not in the truest sense of being killed along with her."

"Why were you not there?"

She stared at him oddly. "Because I wished to live."

"Do you mean to say you knew the rest would die?"

She frowned. "I mean to say that I choose my battles. The time was not right. I stand behind Avellai, but if all of us had died, what then?"

He nodded understandingly. "Live to fight another day...." he mused, his eyes wandering on the soft features of her face. Though the pillowy softness of her cheek cooed at him to cup it lovingly with his calloused palm, he resisted. She had a slightly pronounced jaw and other strong features that did not manage to dissipate the femininity of her appearance--she was like a fairy queen and an amazon rolled into one.

"Why is there such animosity between Kirsh and you?"

"Because Kirsh is a braying ass," she turned her eyes towards the setting sun over the ruins. "He harbours an unnatural hatred for women." She hugged herself, rubbing her arms as if she were cold. "There's something about him I do not like."

Valerius mentally agreed.

_He's creepy, _Diemma joined in. _I have to agree with her, Valerius. That man is unsettling, stay away from him._

_Stay away from him... like how I should stay away from Lutheric and my men like you suggested before?_ he asked incredulously.

_Exactly. _Valerius barely refrained from rolling his eyes in response.

Lanai's gaze shuttered as her expression softened to one of a confiding nature. "He hates anything related to Avellai, you know." She paused, a fleeting look of uncertainty shadowing her face. "He looks at you the same way he looks at me?"

"What do you mean?"

"... He wants you dead too."

Alarms went off in Valerius' head. Lanai's words could be a plot, a tactic to throw off guard in a different direction, just like Diemma was doing with her warning about Lutheric. He studied Lanai's face searchingly for a clue to her motives as she continued on.

"I don't know if you've seen it, but I've seen him staring at you in a way that reminds me of a hunter feline."

"What makes you so certain?"

".... Valerius," her glacial expression returned. "Everyone here knows who you are. We're not stupid. We all know you were the betrothed of Avellai." With that, she narrowed her gaze. "Why did the Zakarum send you? Or are you a rogue knight, coming back to avenge her?" She said that, you know?"

"What?"

Lanai stood up to her full height, the fiery tones of the sunset outside of the window bathed her skin in a warm ethereal glow. "I heard the villagers whispering about it. As she died, she muttering that she will be avenged." She stared down at him, her jaw set. "Is that why you are here? To avenge your lover in the guise of justice?"

The basket was knocked by his foot across the room behind him as he stood up with full force. "This is not about revenge, this is about a demon!"

"Oh really?" Lanai challenged, placing her hands firmly on her hips. "A woman dies in love with a man who she swears will avenge her. Meanwhile, years after her death, countless men connected to the killing of that woman--and some that are not--are turn up dead in gruesome ways, but luckily, several paladins, one of which is the lover previously mentioned, show up claiming to find the demon responsible." She sneered at him. "How does one not know that you are not this fictitious demon that reveals its other side to prove innocence, or that you are here simply to find out who's playing demon and stealing your right to avenge?" She glared at him. "I've heard tales of you, Valerius, about how the Hand of Zakarum trusts you wholly, but I for one will never trust you."

"ENOUGH!" Valerius roared, stepping forward so suddenly Lanai cowered and stepped back.

At that moment, silence ripped through the home. One could hear a pin drop. Instead, Valerius sharp senses heard something else.

_Fsssht!_

On impulse, Valerius lunged at Lanai as she cried out in terror. His full weight smashed into her, forcing her to the ground underneath the bulk of the paladin's weight. Lanai screamed, twisting and kicking beneath him while viciously pulling at his hair.

"No!" she screamed, her hands sliding beneath his chest to shove him off as best as she could. "Get away!"

Valerius ignored her weak attacks until one well-placed finger dug into the fleshiness of his ear.

"Cease, woman!" he hissed into her ear. "Lay still!"

"I will not lay meek while I am to be raped!" she howled, clawing at him.

Boldly, Valerius grabbed her face, one hand cupping each side, and turned it towards the wall a few paces behind her.

Embedded into the wall behind where she stood was a single arrow.

Her struggling stopped and she stared at the item that would have caused her death.

"Will you still never trust me?" he asked in a hush as he rolled off of her, drawing a hidden dagger in his boot.

His ears, trained for any soft sound, strained. He could hear his thudding pulse in the drums and feel the reverberation in his temples. A minute of silence passed before Valerius finally turned to Lanai and replaced his dagger.

"First off, I cannot avenge my lover if I was never that to begin with."

"You were her betrothed," she pointed out flatly.

"Love is not always included with betrothals or marriage."

The admission hung thickly in the air. In front of his eyes, Lanai remained speechless and wide-eyed. Silence reined in his mind, unbroken by Diemma's usual interruptions.

"No... it isn't," she bitterly agreed, her shoulder slumping as she pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. She looked at him cautiously. "At least you're honest about it."

"What kind of man would I be if I weren't?"

"... You'd be Kirsh," she muttered.

"I don't understand."

She raised her eyes to the blazing red sunset barely visible from her seated position on the dirty floor. "You're not the only one who has had a betrothal."

Unable to contain his surprise, Valerius asked, "You and Kirsh?"

She shook her head, her shoulders shuddering with the thought. "Heavens no. Avellai."

Valerius was stunned. "When did this happen?"

"It wasn't official. But it was decided, some time after you fled, that if you did not return at the time to marry Avellai, Kirsh would be the one."

"Who decided this?"

Lanai's eyes turned sad as she swallowed a lump in her throat. "Avellai did."

"Why?" Memories of Avellai's disdain for the young and overly arrogant Kirsh flashed through his mind. She hated Kirsh and any of his blood relatives. They were all cut of the same cloth and could never change. In fact, she claimed Valerius was the complete opposite; good, where Kirsh and his blood were evil.

She gazed at him stonily. "Apparently she had so much faith in you, she felt you would swoop in to be her saviour against any monster." She stared back at the sunset. "How sad that the time you arrive is a time too late."

_Diemma...._ he suddenly called out to her. _Did you know about this?_

_Yes, _she replied. Valerius was not sure if he could believe her.

_Why did you not tell me?_

_... I respect Avellai as a woman,_ she emotionlessly reasoned. _It is not my place to tell you the matters of her heart... particularly since demons alike don't quite understand it or have one..._ A sigh resounded. _Mortals can be such strange and fickle creatures._

At that moment, Valerius couldn't help but agree with the demoness as a tear trickled down Lanai's cheek, glistening in the almost-dead sunset.


End file.
